Loose Ends
by elvengirl9
Summary: Remus is haunted by the loose ends he needs to tie up. A supernatural experience is determined to change that. One-shot fic.


**Disclaimer:** Everyone belongs to the brilliant J.K. Rowling, to whom we must all give praise beyond that which has ever been given before!

**Author's Note:** A little thing that came out of the depths of my brain. I hope you like it. It's just a little scenario. It's not really something that connects to any other story or anything. Please tell me what you liked/hated, whatever. I like specific reviews, just because it tells me what I should keep doing and what I should not do. But if you really feel like just telling me my ff was [enter word here] than that's fine too.

**Loose Ends**

Remus watched the little house on the corner approach closer and closer. It was dwarfed by the large woods behind it and the rest of the neighborhood, with a little backyard that spread around the cement sides and came to the front, grass stopping at the white picket fence, like muggle Styrofoam cut arrow-sharp at the top. The sidewalk in front was mostly the light grey of new cement, with a few chips at the side nearest the road, and a black driveway leading to the small garage. The little peach-colored house with its clear windows stood silent, even as the small, worn, jet-black car parked by the sidewalk. Remus' eyes barely glanced at the door and the keys coming out of the ignition. Instead, his gaze was fixed on the little house he hadn't seen in twenty years. The little house where he had grown up. The little house where his parents had lived.

The blue skies above cheerily gave a bright light to the neighborhood, not reflecting Remus' mood. When Sirius had first come face-to-face with Number 12, Grimwauld Place his dark look had spoken volumes. But though Remus' face had no expression, his thoughts were careening wildly. The last time he had seen this house was for a Christmas break. He had waved as his mother and father had stood at the doorway, tears running down his mother's face, his father smiling. Tears built up behind Remus' eyes. That had been the last time he had seen Anna and John Lupin.

He walked down the worn walkway leading to the door. No one lived here now. The latest resident had been a muggle, who had moved away to be closer to relatives. Now the house was empty. No light came from the windows. No car was parked in the driveway.

The stairs he was walking up now led to his room, where he had lain sick many times, his mother feeding him her chicken soup. He had sat on this very blue bed, with the worn dark blue blanket and pillows, on many sleepless nights, staring at the ceiling as the moonlight fell on his face. He had looked out the window countless times, viewing the forest he had visited on nights on the full moon, on days where he had just wanted to take a walk, on nature walks with his father a long time ago, before he had been bitten.

But this was no longer his house. No longer his room. Now the rooms were empty, lifeless. His mother would never knock softly on the door anymore. Remus wouldn't even look out this window anymore, after this one, last time.

Remus stared out that window, simply remembering. He had sat with James, Sirius, and Peter under the shade of those trees. He had camped in the backyard with his father. He had set up picnics for his mother. In this house, in those trees, lay so many memories. But the memories were not all joyful.

This had not only been the last place he had seen his parents. He'd come to terms with their deaths. This was also where he had been bitten, a mindless, innocent child bitten by a werewolf he had never known, who had come and gone in the night. He'd never come to terms with that.

He'd never come to terms with the fact that some werewolf had bitten him, changing his life. He'd never come to terms with the fact that every full moon he'd have to transform. Life wasn't fair. He didn't even know who the werewolf was, the one that bit him. He probably never would. But it wasn't fair. That's where everything started, with him becoming a werewolf. What if that hadn't happened? What would have happened?

Remus wiped away the tears that had fallen, and turned away from the window. Those memories were dead. This house was dead. It was a ghost house now.

Speaking of ghosts... As Remus pushed open the door, which creaked, he heard a faint murmuring.

"Not here... My chance..." Remus furrowed his brow. Who could be here? Who would have the keys? After the last person had moved out, the realtor of the house had asked Remus if he had wanted to come here, and sent the keys. Had someone else gotten such a letter?

Remus silently stepped down the wooden staircase. What he saw startled him slightly. The ghost of an old man stood in the living room, pearly form scratching his head. He turned when he heard Remus' light footsteps.

"Excuse me? Do you live here?" he asked. Remus shook his head. Why was there a ghost here? The ghost in question shook his head sadly. "Everything but this," he muttered.

"Um... do you mind me asking what you mean?" Remus asked politely. The ghost seemed to have forgotten he was here. Now he looked at him directly with a slightly sad look.

"You have loose ends to tie, my friend. You must come to terms with them, so you are not doomed to ghostdom to fix them out with the rest of eternity at your hands." How did this ghost know? Being a werewolf haunted him, every day, every night. The loose ends this ghost had spoken of were unraveling him, spinning him around with their force. Remus shifted uncomfortably

In answer to Remus' question, the transparent, hovering man said, "It's a long story... sit down, will you? Or are you more comfortable standing?" Remus nodded at the last sentiment. "Stay standing, then. I died about ten years ago. Don't mind being a ghost. Never would have. I wasn't finished in this world. No one to see on the other side, anyway." Remus nodded again, politely, though he was a bit confused. He was curious to know what the ghost meant, but no doubt, it was forbidden. Remus didn't want to know what no mortal was ever meant to know, even if this ghost would have told him.

"Anyways, like I said, I wasn't finished in this world. I had things to do, people to see. And I finished all those loose ends I needed to tie, except this one." The man looked at Remus curiously. "You won't do something silly, will you? No, you won't. I can see it. You see, I'm a werewolf. My deepest desire was that I could stop the transformations somehow, if not for me, than for the others who turned into wolves on the full moon. I suppose there'll never be a cure for that, though."

"Actually," Remus intervened, knowing how important it would be for him to know, "the Wolfsbane potion was discovered a few years ago. It doesn't stop the transformation, but you keep your mind as you transform, so you can control your actions."

"Really?" the man asked, surprised. "That's wonderful!" He beamed. Then his thick brow furrowed. "You speak as if... you're one too, aren't you? Yes, you are a werewolf. I see it in your eyes. I wonder? No. Anyway, where was I? Yes. I'm a werewolf. I hurt many people over the course of my life because of it. And there's one more who I needed to find, just to apologize. I used to live here, a long, long time ago. Well, not here, but on the other side of the woods. And on one night of the full moon, I roamed a little far..."

"Yes?" asked Remus breathlessly, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"Well, I bit this little boy. I was hoping I'd find him here. Silly of me, I suppose. I don't even know if he lived or not."

"Of course not," said Remus. How could this man do this? Come into the house he'd grown up in, taken blame for the startling events of the past. If this man hadn't bit him... James and Lily might never have died. Sirius might never had died. Remus might have lived a normal life. A selfish thought, but an angry one.

"I'd thought to find him here. I thought you were him at first. He'd be about your age. But you're not him."

"No, I'm not," Remus lied darkly.

"You can't be. But he had a spirit, this boy. I could tell, even if I was trying to bite him with all of my wolf senses. You know what I mean?"

"Yes," said Remus shortly.

"He had quite a spirit, quite a spirit indeed. I think he lived. He had the _will_ to live. But he's not here. Pity. I wanted to tell him something.

"What did you want to tell him?" asked Remus, almost in a soundless daze.

"I wanted to say... to say I'm sorry."

Remus smiled. "I think he'd tell you it was all right."

"If he were here." The man looked at Remus questioningly as Remus grinned at him.

"If he were here."


End file.
